


I'm Cold

by Night9shade



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cooking and Flirting, Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, No Smut, mild language?, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-24 07:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30068685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night9shade/pseuds/Night9shade
Summary: "I'm cold."That was the time that Dream found out he was a cuddler. He loved the cold, even though he grew up in Florida. It was a nice change to Florida, which was always steamy and constantly trying to cook the residents. When Dream flew up to Britain to visit his Minecraft best friend, George, he was in for a surprise.
Relationships: dreamnotfound - Relationship, gream - Relationship
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	1. Out of the Closet

It was the beginning of winter, when Dream decided that he and George should hang out. After planning a flight, he packed and drove to the airport. Dream stepped off the plane, scanning for a specific brunette in the wave of tourists. He smirked when he saw George first, remembering that George didn't know what he looked like. Dream circled around so that he was behind George, and slowly walked up to him. It took Dream a few seconds to realize how much shorter George was compared to himself. Dream hovered over George's shoulder, murmuring huskily, "Oh, George…"

George's reaction was priceless. He squeaked and jumped away from Dream, who was currently laughing his ass off. George was bright red when he realized who it was, and lightly punched Dream in the arm.

He pulled Dream out of the airport, still chuckling, and to the car. When they got in, George turned to Dream and just stared. Dream noticed and swallowed thickly, slightly nervous. He wondered what was going through George's mind. Then, George blinked and said, "Wow… you're hot-TALL! I meant TALL! You're really tall!" He flushed and turned to the road.

Dream was trying not to burst out laughing. "Well, at least I'm appreciated," he said softly, suddenly more somber. George noticed the change, but said nothing of it. When they got to George's flat,

George showed him to the guest room. It had a beautiful view of the city, and the sun was nearly setting.

"You must be hungry," George heard Dream's stomach grumble. "I'll make some food. Settle down, and come to the kitchen when you're done."

After a few minutes, Dream made his way to the kitchen, but froze when he heard music. Dream cocked his head as he recognized the song- Heatwaves. He was actually kind of surprised that George was listening to it. There was a whole "Dreamnotfound" fanfiction based on that song. He mentally prepared himself, and strolled into the kitchen.

George was stirring something in a saucepan, and some potatoes were chilling on a cutting board behind him. He jumped when Dream plopped on a bar stool in front of the stove. "Nice song," he said smoothly, not failing to catch George's blush, "What's for dinner?"

George rolled his eyes, and said, "I'm making poutine."

"Sounds like a disease… You sure that's edible?" Dream asked, faking concern.

George smacked him with the recipe book. "Idiot," he said, as Dream dramatically fell over on the floor. Then he softened a little and asked, "You alright?"

Dream smirked and climbed back up on the chair, "No, I just broke my pancreas, thanks for asking."

George proceeded to chuckle and attack the potatoes sitting behind him. "So, uh… what is poutine?" Dream asked.

"Chips covered in a gravy and topped with the most delicious snack in the world, cheese curds," George responded. "It's, like, the one dish I can live off of." He chuckled and scratched the back of his head.

Dream grinned and looked around. "Well, I'm pleased to have been welcomed into your humble abode," he said.

George let out a pffffft and rolled his eyes again. Dream began looking at some of the frames on the wall around the corner. There were a few pictures of George and his family, others of his late cat, and more of just a younger George. His eyes caught one specific picture, widening. A younger George was dramatically waving a flag, one that Dream vaguely recognized as a demisexual pride flag. His jaw dropped at this revelation. Dream could feel his heart rate speeding up. No, dammit, this is not a good time for a long buried crush to dig itself back up.

Dream staggered back to the kitchen, and made his way to the living room. He didn't want George to suspect anything, so he said, "Nice pictures, I'm jealous," and walked onto the balcony.

To George, he was admiring the view. But Dream was fighting an internal battle. He wasn't sure how to process this new information. He pushed it aside when George came out with two bowls of french fries covered in some chunks of cheese and a golden brown sauce. "You said they were chips…" Dream said, confused.

"Those are chips," George deadpanned. It was so out of character that Dream burst out into a wheezing laughter, making George smile as well.

As they ate, Dream carefully, casually asked about the different pictures on the wall. George dove into memories, recalling and laughing, as he retold them to Dream. They were having a great time, just enjoying each other's company.

Until… "There was another one…" Dream began, realizing he had said that out loud.

"Which one?" George asked, still giggling from the last story.

"Um… there was a flag…" Dream said, softly, slowly, fearing the reply. 

George froze, eyes locking with Dream's. "Oh… uh, that- it's nothing," he said awkwardly, looking away.

"Are you demisexual?!" Dream blurted without thinking. Then he felt his face flush, and stood up, about to go inside.

"Yea," he heard George say softly. Dream whipped around. "You are?!" he asked with more hope in his voice than he would have liked.

"I… I didn't know how to tell you," George admitted. "I didn’t know what you'd think. I was afraid of what you would think… Um, anyway, I'm finished, I'll go start th-"

"George," Dream cut him off. "I'm bi."

George stared at him, and said, "I knew it," more to himself.

Dream was stunned. "You did??"

"Well, you aren't exactly subtle, now are you?" George smirked, "With all your 'I love you, Gogy!' proclamations."

Dream felt himself flush, but retorted, "It's not like I was joking," unconsciously confessing to George. He could feel himself withdrawing back into a musty shell, and it scared him. He reached out, and pulled George into a hug in an attempt to escape the shell's suffocation. George stiffened for a split second from the sudden contact, but melted immediately. Dream's heart skipped a beat when he felt George's hands on his back. He was suddenly overcome with emotions, and proceeded to bury his cold nose in George's neck. Goosebumps spread along George's skin.

"Dream, you're so cold," George said softly. Dream pressed himself closer to George. This man _radiated_ heat, and Dream wanted to suck up every last drop. He found himself being led back inside and curling up on the couch. Silently wrapping his arms around George, they cuddled for a good several minutes, with Dream comfortably settled halfway in George's lap. As much as he wanted to enjoy it, Dream could feel the jet-lag looming over him, and sleep took over his consciousness.

AN: I have no idea when I'ma post Chapter 2. This was supposed to be a one-shot, but I guess not. Show this some love!

Also, I make a lot of subtle references to the most random things, sometimes popular DNF content (nudge nudge, wink wink Heatwaves) See if you can catch them!


	2. Confessions!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting just a tad steamy, I think?

When Dream woke up, he was laying _on top of_ George, on the couch. Hair mussed, clothes rumpled, and nose still buried in George's neck. He felt the brunet's warm breath blowing softly on his ear and the hand in his hair. He lifted his head enough to see George's face, and wondered how the hell someone could be so pretty. Like, George could pass as a freaking teen model (AN: in this story, Dream is 21 and George is 22.) Dream swallowed thickly.

"Screw you, George," he muttered, staring at his oh-so-tempting lips. Just a quick peck. The devil on his shoulder was shrieking, "Just do it! Just a little kiss! You won't regret it!"

Gulping, he lowered his face ever so slightly to George's slightly parted lips. The sensation was breathtaking. His lips were so warm, and he tasted kinda nice- like… vanilla and cheese curds, in the best way possible. Suddenly, George was kissing back. Dream was so surprised at the returned pressure than he shot up and proceeded to fall off the couch.

George's obnoxious sniggering brought his senses back to him, and he looked up at George, dazed. "What the hell?!" Dream demanded.

"'Bout time," George said, still chuckling. Confused, Dream asked, "What do you mean?"

"I was awake the whole time, idiot."

Dream was silently biting the side of his lip. "That's not what I meant…"

George cocked his head. "Then what do you mean?"

"What did you mean by 'about time'? You were expecting that? You _wanted_ that?"

George could only respond with, "Oh. Um, well, I guess I've had a crush on you for a while. Self-explanatory."

Dream was slowly putting the pieces together in his mind. "But! Whenever we streamed and stuff, and I… 'confessed'… you never willingly, voluntarily said 'I love you' back… you always had to be fooled or pressured into saying it. Why couldn't you just say it? It… really did hurt, especially when I invited you to be my Valentine and you completely rejected it. It felt like you didn't even give it a second thought." He didn't really mean for these feelings to spill out- the speech was more for him to figure things out.

"I think…" George began. Dream looked up, startled. He didn't expect an answer- he had just been thinking out loud.

  
"I think it's because if I said it, out loud, to you, it would be too sincere to be a joke. I think I was afraid that people would be able to see it on my face. And then… I don't know. I guess I'm just afraid of coming out to them." George began messing with his fingers as he spoke.

Dream studied his face when George went silent. "So… what now?"

"… well… I like you, and I'm assuming you like me… so… do you wanna be my boyfriend?"

Dream tried to smile, but realized his mouth was already stretching from ear to ear in an enormous grin.

"Hell yea!" he hollered, springing back onto the couch and squishing George underneath him. He tried to resist but kind of just flopped down. Dream felt victorious, for whatever reason. They maneuvered so that George was laying comfortably on Dream's chest.

"You know," Dream began after a few minutes. "I think my merch looks great on you."

"Don't start that again," George blushed, burying his face in Dream's shirt. "You weren't even supposed to have that picture in the first place."

"Totally worth it," Dream singsonged. "But I will keep the rest to myself. My eyes only."

"There were _more_?!"

"Of course, Gogy, what did you expect?" George blushed again from the nickname, but didn't answer. Instead, he focused on Dream's shirt. He studied it, absentmindedly rubbing gentle circles in Dream's side. Until he noticed the goosebumps on Dream's arm. He caressed a small part of Dream's side again, and the muscle stiffened. He glanced curiously at Dream's face, and bit his lip.

Dream had closed his eyes, face burning, and George was barely able to make out the faint pants coming from his lips. George tried caressing his side again, and Dream's face twitched. He smirked, and laid back down again, ear pressed close to Dream's heart. Another caress made it beat faster, and George chuckled quietly. He drummed his fingers along his side again, and Dream shifted. "Oi. Stawp," Dream murmured, eyes still closed. He grabbed George's hand when he didn't stop.

Undeterred, a few seconds later, George began drumming his fingers on Dream's other side. Dream didn't hesitate to yank George's other wrist away. In an instant, George was pinned underneath Dream, straddled and held down by his wrists.

George couldn't breathe. Like, his breath was actually caught in his throat.

"I will kiss you so hard," Dream threatened, eyes glinting, "If you poke me anymore."

Something snapped in George. That threat had actually, for real, turned him on. He wasn't going to submit. He determined his next move in a split second, and proceeded to carry it out, rolling off the couch and onto the floor. Dream groaned underneath him from the impact. George whispered huskily in his ear, "I'm not some stupid bottom. I'll carry out your 'threat' right now. Oh, how the tables have turned."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheh, did anyone catch the "not a stupid bottom" Tiktok reference?


End file.
